Devil, Devil
by Pirate Gyrl
Summary: Sequel of sorts to Take Me to Church. I recommend reading that one first. What will John do when he's asked for help in saving Wesley? Will he let it go or help out? Completely inspired by Milck's Devil, Devil.
1. Devil, Devil

Devil, Devil

He'd gone on the offensive when he found her sitting in his house, staring out of the picture window. At what, he didn't wait to find out.

He'd let Brutus off the leash, the dog tearing after her with a simple, quiet command. He'd gotten one bite to her arm before she broke away, rolling over the back of the couch, landing in a crouch on the floor.

Brutus leapt over the back, teeth bared. In one fluid movement, she palmed his chest with one hand, lightly grabbed his throat with the other, and used his own momentum to push him over her head. The dog landed less than gracefully on the tiled floor and skidded into the wall.

John was on her a moment later, a gun pointed at her face. She twisted on her knees, grabbing his wrist and pushing the weapon away. She absorbed his punch to her side and pulled the gun from his hand, sending it sliding behind her. She matched him blow for blow. Even, amazingly, by pulling her own punches. Everything she did was defensive.

Brutus took another nip at her leg but she brushed him aside, dancing around the dog's bites and John's attacks. She ducked under John's punch and blocked his kick with one arm while straight arming Brutus away from her.

She leapt back from another of John's kicks and flipped over a snapping Brutus. He saw the gun in her hand as soon as she straightened, flipping her hair out of her face, the gun rising to aim directly at John.

He whistled quietly, stopping Brutus from lunging.

"Thompkins."

Her lips curled. "Close enough."

"Then how about you tell me what it's close to."

She gave a small shake of her head. "Doesn't matter. I'm here to talk."

"Last time someone said that to me I almost got shot."

"I'm not guaranteeing this won't end the same way," she said, lowering her weapon. "But it won't be from me."

"Then talk."

"I need your help."

He paused. "I'm listening."

"They too him." She took a breath, steadying the shaking in her hands. "They took Wesley."

* * *

 **AN:** So, this has been poking at my brain for a while now and I've finally found the perfect song to inspire it. If you haven't heard the incredible song 'Devil, Devil' by the extremely talented Milck, then I suggest you do. I haven't been able to stop listening to it.

This is going to veer a little off of the plot of John Wick Chapter 2 but not by much. I've obviously named his new dog but that's about it. I might, _might_ , write a third one to this series taking place after the second movie, but we'll see.

I have several of the chapters already written out for this one and it looks like it's going to be nine chapters. The first couple chapters are pretty short, so please bear with me. I'll have one chapter posted every week, so I hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think!


	2. Bones of Metal

Bones of Metal

"You want my help going against the Fraternity?"

"You took out two Families."

"But they weren't Fraternity."

Thompkins scratched Brutus behind his ears. He licked and nuzzled her palm, the traitor. "Wesley took down and entire cell by himself."

John finished bandaging the bite on her arm and sat back. "Wesley is a legacy and Fraternity trained. Mafia and Fraternity are completely different."

Thompkins turned to look at him, pausing in her scratching. Brutus, not liking her being distracted, butted his head into her hand. "Wesley said Cross trained you."

John shook his head. "He showed me some moves; things to make me better at what I do." He leaned forward, bracing his elbows on his knees, resting his chin on his clasped fingers. "Besides, if he's got you going to rescue him, he'll be fine."

Thompkins let out a puff of laughter. "I'm not stupid enough to go after Fraternity on my own. It's why I came to you."

"You're Fraternity."

She shook her head, her black ponytail waving. "No, I'm not. I was trained, like you, but I'm nothing like them."

John watched as she turned her attention back to Brutus. She played with his ears, making low cooing noises. He wuffed in response. Thompkins was afraid. She was trying to hide it; trying to play her fear off as nothing, but John could see it. He could see it in the lines of her face, the set of her jaw; the way her eyes never quite focused on one thing.

After a couple minutes of silence, she stood, the fingers of her right hand giving one more scratch behind Brutus' ears. Her other hand picked up the gun from the table and tucked it back in the holster at the small of her back.

"You know, John, in all the years I've known you, I never took you to be a coward." She said, walking to the front door.

He knew she was baiting him. He knew she was trying to get him to respond to her jibe. But he wouldn't respond the way she wanted him to.

"Not a coward. Just smart enough to know when something was a losing battle."

Thompkins shook her head, her hand on the doorknob. "It's not a losing battle so long as there's someone willing to fight it."

With that, she was gone, the door clicking behind her.


	3. Torture Saints

Torture Saints

She knew she was being followed. She also knew they weren't stupid enough to do anything in so public a place. There were so few of them left that they couldn't afford to risk exposure. It was bad enough they'd attacked in the middle of the day when they snatched Wesley.

They would likely wait until she went back to the hotel room she rented after the attack at the apartment. She was sure they assumed they'd get her before reaching her stash of weapons. Man, were they going to be surprised.

* * *

Thompkins picked out the couple walking across the parking lot before they even saw her. They clung to each other, his arm wrapped around her shoulders and hers around his waist. She could hear them laughing at some private joke they thought they shared.

Well then. This became slightly more complicated.

Two she could handle. But four? The odds were against her now and she knew it. Her fingers itched to pull the gun from her back holster but fought the urge. She needed them to think they still had the drop on her.

She needed them to think she wasn't expecting them.

What she wasn't expecting, however, was the man waiting inside the door to her hotel.

Thompkins rolled with the punch that landed on her left cheek. She grabbed hold of the arm, holding it straight and quickly pulling down as she pushed his elbow up. The crack that sounded from was satisfying to her ears.

She lunged forward, shoving the man into the room and then kicked out, swiping his feet out from under him. He landed with a dull thud and a grunt. Before he could get up, Thompkins dove over him, locking her arms around his neck and twisting.

Thompkins scrambled away from him, reaching for the duffle filled with weapons hidden under the bed. Just as her fingertips touched the strap, a hand clamped down on her right ankle and pulled. She was yanked away from her weapons, the carpet biting into the bare skin that slid on the carpet.

She twisted in the hold and kicked out with her left foot, connecting with the chest of the woman holding onto her ankle. The woman released her as she stumbled away. Two men took her place seconds later. They each grabbed her legs to stop her kicks.

Thompkins pulled herself up and swung at them but the two other Fraternity grabbed her arms and pinned them to the floor. Her back arched off the floor as she pulled at their hold on her.

A fist connected with her temple. Stunned, and momentarily seeing double, her struggles stopped. A hand gripped her chin and turned her head to the right, baring the length of her neck.

A sharp prick was the last thing she felt.

* * *

 **AN:** Thank you Doctor's T.A.R.D.I.S for the follow!


	4. Ever Stood a Chance

Ever Stood a Chance

"These visits are getting more and more frequent, Jonathan," Winston stated, looking up at John from over his glasses, his head tilted just so. "One would think you were back."

John gave a small smile. "Just looking for some information, Winston."

"About your new friend?"

"You know?"

"Not much slips through my net, Jonathan. Just as I know she asked you to help take on a small sect of Fraternity that have shown up in the city."

John nodded slowly, his eyes not moving from Winston's. "Then you know I declined."

Winston interlocked his fingers as he leaned his forearms on the table. "And yet here you are asking for information."

He had him. Winston had always been able to read him. Went with the job, John supposed, and the reason he was so high up and well respected.

"I think that even though you declined Thompkins' offer of staging warfare, some part of you had some desire to help her. I'm sure you grew fond of Mr. Gibson and don't want to see harm come to him."

"It's the Fraternity, Winston."

"And with a Fraternity trained partner at your side, I am sure you would be fine."

John nodded and stood. With a simple thanks, he made his way out of the booth.

"Oh, and Jonathan?"

"Yes?" he replied, stopping, his back still to Winston.

"I would hurry. Word is, a group of Fraternity followed Ms. Thompkins to her hotel room. They have not been seen leaving."

* * *

The punches were constant; the pain never ending. He knew they were going easy on him. They wanted him to suffer for every death he'd dealt. He knew they wanted him to suffer for every loss they'd had.

They were going to be at it for a while.

He'd killed a lot of them.

A laugh burst from swollen lips, bloody spittle flying out.

The blows paused for a moment as if trying to figure out what could possibly be funny in the situation, but then resumed.

He laughed again, looking up at his assailant with his one good eye. "You'll have to do better than this," he sputtered.

The next punch knocked him and the chair over. At least they were up for the challenge.


	5. Do Not Try Me

**Updated 8/18/17 for continuity error.**

Do Not Try Me

Blood and brains spattered her face before the next cut could even happen. The second and third bodies fell before the first even landed in her lap. She threw herself back when she heard the sound of a gun being pulled from a holster behind her.

She collided with the woman standing behind her, knocking them both to the floor. The gun clattered from the woman's hand as she struggled to get free of the chair currently pinning her legs. The woman grunted as Thompkins' full weight landed on her.

Thompkins struggled against the binds on her arms and legs as the Fraternity woman attempted to push the chair off. Thompkins snapped her head back as the other woman started to life herself up, the crown of her head connecting with the other woman's chin. She regretted it immediately as pain exploded through her head.

Through the ringing in her ears, Thompkins heard the door open. Claws slid across the linoleum in front of the hotel door as a dog burst through. Long legs flew past her and skidded to a halt above her.

The Fraternity woman grunted as the dog skidded to a halt next to her. From the tops of her eyes, Thompkins could see Brutus clamp his teeth around the woman's throat. She stilled, knowing one wrong move and the teeth would pierce her flesh.

Moments later, walking in as if he were an avenging angel, John Wick entered, a gun slung across his chest. He stopped at the legs of Thompkins' overturned chair. His eyes flicked up to the Fraternity briefly but settled back on Thompkins. John set the gun at his feet and grabbed hold of the bars connecting the seat to the arms. He pulled, the chair jerking up and settling on all four legs.

Thompkins grunted, her upper body pitching forward. John gripped her shoulders to steady her.

"What took you so long?" she asked, the cut in her lip throbbing.

John pulled a knife from his pocket and clicked the blade open. He smiled as he cut through the ties on her wrists and ankles. "You're welcome."

She stood on shaky legs and made her way to the Fraternity woman pinned to the floor. "Now you," she said, glaring down at her, "are going to tell me where Wesley is."

"They'll kill you," the woman grunted.

Thompkins nodded. "Probably. But at least I'll have tried."

* * *

The bright sun beat down on him, but Winston paid it no mind. He tucked his hands in his trousers pockets and strolled to the fountain at the middle of the park. A woman stood there, gazing at the flowing water and flanked by two other men.

The men moved aside as Winston stepped next to her, his attention on the fountain as well.

"What has made the Fraternity so bold?"

A flicker of a grin tilted the woman's lips and disappeared just as quickly. "Taking care of some of our own business," she answered, a slight accent coloring her words. "It is of no consequence to you or yours."

"Everything is of consequence to me and mine, Celeste," Winston replied. If she was startled he knew her name, she didn't show it. "The Fraternity cannot simply walk into New York and be unnoticed."

"We are worried more about pest control then subtlety, Winston," Celeste responded. "I suggest you stay out of our way until we finish our business."

Winston spread his hands in from of him. "I have no problem staying out of your ventures." He shrugged. "Others of my ilk, however . . ."

Celest scoffed. "Yes. Your John Wick. Do not think we are unaware of him." she shook her head. "No. He does not matter. We have what we came for."

"And the girl?"

"The girl plays at games she should not."

"And yet."

"And yet she is nothing but a nuisance."

A stoic man stepping up cut off whatever Winston was about to say. The man whispered in Celeste's ear.

"It was good to make your acquaintance, Winston," she said, turning to him fully and giving a slight bow. "Unfortunately, I must leave. Business calls."

Winston nodded. He watched her go from the corner of his eyes. He sighed. Hopefully Thompkins and Jonathan knew what they were doing.

* * *

The gold coin slid across the counter. Charon looked up, a smile pulling at his lips.

"It is good to see you again, Mr. Wick."

John nodded. "We'd like a room."

Charon pulled the coin toward him and glanced over John's shoulder. Thompkins stood just behind him, favoring her right side. Her left cheek was swollen and a cut above her eye was still bleeding. "Will you be needing the doctor as well?"

"I'm fine," Thompkins bit out.

"Yes, of course," John interrupted.

"I will send him right up," Charon replied as he handed John the keycard. "Enjoy your evening, sir."

Charon watched as John silently nodded again and turned away. He slowed his normal quick gait to match Thompkins' shuffle, much to her annoyance. He reached for her as she stumbled, but she pushed him off. It wasn't until they moved out of his eye line, Brutus dutifully following behind, that Charon turned away.

It appears that it was going to be an interesting night.

* * *

 **AN:** Sorry it's a few weeks late, but here it is. I'm working on the next chapter and I hope to have it up by Wednesday or Thursday. Hope you enjoyed!


	6. Cannot Buy Me

Cannot Buy Me

"You were brought into our world," she said quietly, running her fingers lazily over his bare chest. "But then you betrayed us."

Wesley spit at her feet. "Sloan betrayed you."

Her fingers tucked under his chin, drawing his eyes up to meet hers. She frowned. "And you think we should thank you for handling him?"

"I think you should've left me the fuck alone."

Celeste gripped his face in one hand, digging her nails into his cheeks. She pulled him to her, causing him to groan as his arms were pulled tighter above his head. "We do not simply abide someone killing our own."

Wesley struggled to pull his face from her grasp. "Then you shouldn't have pulled me in."

Celeste shoved him away, her nails scratching his cheeks. "That was Sloan," she retorted disdainfully. "Had he confided in us-"

Wesley grinned through his swollen lips. "You would've been dead a lot sooner."

"You seem so sure of yourself."

"Didn't say it would've been me."

Celeste scoffed. "Oh, yes. Cross. And what would you have done if he had succeeded in his task?"

Wesley's gaze met hers steadily. "Been normal."

* * *

John couldn't help but notice the scars littering Thompkins' body as the Doctor checked her wounds: the scar on her left bicep, the bullet wounds on her left and right shoulders and, most noticeably, the long, thin scar nestled right below her ribcage. From the angle and width of the scar, he was surprised she'd survived it.

He had similar scars, of course. Wounds that he probably should not have survived. It was all part of the job, he supposed. But . . .

"Who are you?"

Thompkins lifted her head to look at him. "You know who I am."

"Who are you _really_?"

She sighed. "John-"

"I thought you were Sarantino's."

"I was."

"And yet you gave him up so easily."

"That was unfinished business. You know what that is, don't you John?"

John didn't take the bait. "Then why did you go after me for him?"

"I needed him to trust me. He gave me you as a test. It wasn't personal. Just business."

"And Wesley?"

Thompkins gave out a bark of laughter. "Not going there."

"You almost killed him."

"But I didn't."

John leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "And who are you to him?"

Thompkins hissed as the Doctor grazed her ribs. "Complicated."

"Lean forward for me," the Doctor said quietly, pulling her gently by the shoulders so he could see her back. "Mostly superficial," he said finally, bandaging up the few wounds on her back. "There are a few I would tell you to keep an eye on, but if you're with this guy I doubt you will."

With the help of the Doctor, Thompkins pulled her shirt over her head. " _My_ welfare isn't what I'm concerned with."

He set a bottle of pills on the table next to her. "Something for the pain. I suggest you rest for the night. Whatever you have to do can wait until the morning."

With a nod to John, the Doctor left, the door clicking shut behind him. John sipped his drink in silence as Thompkins gingerly rested against the pillows on the bed. They sat in silence, both lost in their own thoughts.

Their eyes met, however, and smiles quirked their lips as soft snores started emanating from Brutus.

* * *

They found her bound and gagged in the hotel room, her arms and legs tied to each of the bed posts. Anger glittered in her eyes as they worked meticulously to free her.

"I'm going to kill the bitch," she seethed.

"We're working on moving everything now."

"Tell Celeste no. Let them come. It won't matter anyway."


	7. Won't Make a Fool of Me

Won't Make a Fool Out of Me

"Are you sure you want to do this?"

She shrugged, not looking at him as she pulled her jacket on. "It's the only way."

"It's a suicide run."

She snorted. "You're one to talk."

A smirk twitched at his lips. "Touché."

Thompkins pulled the barrel back on her gun, checked to make sure the magazine was loaded and tucked it into the holster at her back. She checked the clips on her belt and tugged her jacket down.

John tapped her on the back and lifted his eyebrows when he felt no protection. She moved out of his reach and busied herself preparing the other weapons she was taking.

"It's the Fraternity," he said.

"It's _Wesley_ ," she responded quietly. "I can't leave him." She finally turned to him, straightening her back. "Besides, you have my back."

She walked past him, patting him on the shoulder. He turned his head to her, watching her from the corner of his eye. "Always."

* * *

They didn't even know she was there. She made her way through the rooms, silently taking out anyone who stood in her way. She knew the key to taking on the Fraternity was to take them by surprise. If they didn't know you were coming then they couldn't bolster their forces.

It was when she pushed open a large door at the end of the final hall that she found him. He was hanging limply by his wrists, his knees slightly bent, the tops of his feet brushing the ground. At the sound of the door opening, Wesley struggled to pull himself to a standing position.

Thompkins stared as new rivulets of blood trailed down his arms from the shackles, her eyes tracking the lines as the drops fell. She shut the door as quietly as she could and bolted to his side. She grasped his face with both hands and tilted his face up, her eyes searching his.

One blue eye stared back at her, the other one having swollen shut. She could see that it took a moment for him to register who she was.

"Wesley," she whispered.

"E-" he started.

Thompkins hushed him with a gentle brush of her fingers against his lips. "I'm here to get you out."

"You're insane."

Thompkins stood up straight, stretching to reach the chains holding him up. "I learned from the best."

Wesley grunted as she brushed against the cuts on his arms. He shook his head at her muttered apology.

"I need you to stand up," she said, ducking to look him in the eye again. At the flinch in his gaze, she continued, "I'll help how I can. I don't want to hurt you."

A snort made its way through his nose. She fought against the smile that tried to form. At least he hadn't lost his sense of humor.

Thompkins wrapped her arms around his torso, attempting to avoid the many bruises and cuts on his skin. When he was finally standing on his feet, she let go, allowing her fingertips to brush along his abdomen and up his chest to trail over the lines of his lips and then over the taut muscles in his arms. She paused when her fingers wrapped around the chains.

"This is going to hurt," she whispered, her eyes locked on his.

A simple nod was the only response she received.

Before she pushed up, Thompkins pressed her lips to his, swallowing the groans that he let out. She stood on tiptoe, keeping her lips to his, attempting to pull the chain over the hook. She let out a noise a frustration when it wouldn't budge.

Wesley's scream echoed in the room as he was swung around. A form had tackled Thompkins around her waist, wrenching her from Wesley's side.

Thompkins pushed herself to her feet, pulling her gun from its holster. She hesitated only for a moment when she saw the woman from the hotel room, her own gun pointed at Wesley's forehead.

"Shall we see who's faster, bitch?" the woman spat.

Thompkins gaze flicked to Wesley, who stared back at her. She could see his muscles tense as he readied to do whatever he was planning.

She lifted her arms, letting her gun dangle from her thumb by the trigger guard.

"Well that's a shame," the woman said. "I was hoping to have a lot more fun with this."

She didn't see Wesley move until his foot connected with her wrist. The gun flew from her hand. His next kick struck her side and a shot rang out before she could recover.

The woman was dead on the ground minutes after she'd stepped in the room.

"We need to get you out now," Thompkins said as she hurried to his side, stepping over the woman's body. "Pull your wrists as far apart as you can."

Thompkins aimed at the chain looped over the hook holding him up and fired as soon as his hands were out of the way. Wesley stumbled as the chain snapped.

Thompkins wrapped her arm around his back and started to lead them to the door she'd come through.

"What a pity. She really was one of my best."


	8. Think I Would Ever Settle

Think I Would Ever Settle

John's head shot up at the sound of a gun being fired. Well. So much for the element of surprise. He calmly placed the last small explosive on the side of the building. The one by itself would do very little damage, but combining with the other four he'd placed . . .

It would be enough to at least cause a distraction to the Fraternity inside. He only hoped it would be enough of one. He moved away, paying no attention to the bodies of fallen Fraternity.

John needed to get back in position. If Thompkins came out with pursuers he'd be ready. A second shot sounded followed by a third and fourth. John stilled. A fifth made its way to his ears and he turned on his heel, drew his weapon and ran.

* * *

Wesley pushed back the pain as he blocked the kick from the attacking Fraternity. He grabbed his opponents arm and turned it, pulling the woman toward him as he kicked out. He twisted around her, wrapping his free hand around her neck. The crack could still be heard even over the other sounds of fighting.

He turned his head to look for Thompkins and found her grappling with two other Fraternity. She had taken a bullet in the leg at the beginning of the fight. She'd pushed on, a determined look masking the pain in her eyes.

He called to her, a soft shout to get her attention. Her eyes flicked to him and a small smile curved her lips. Thompkins nodded at him as she pulled a butterfly knife from her pocket, flipped it open and stabbed it through one of the Fraternity's chins. Wesley watched as she ripped it out, blood spraying her arms and clothes, and slashed it across the other man's throat.

A shot from behind him caused Wesley to turn around. Another Fraternity was at his feet, a bullet hole through his temple, a gun gripped loosely in his hand. He looked up, finally noticing John standing just inside the door. Three Fraternity charged at him.

They fell seconds later.

Wesley stooped and grabbed the newly discarded gun. He fired it into an oncoming Fraternity without looking, glancing around for one particular person.

He felt the adrenalin surge through his system as he finally found her. She was leaning against a side wall watching the fighting, five men standing around her. Wesley fired point blank at another woman coming after him and then tilted his body just so.

Wesley swung his arm out in a perfect arc, squeezing the trigger right at the apex. The bullet flew through the air, moved through the small opening between guards and lodged itself in the wall next to Celeste's head. He could just make out the trickle of blood sliding down the shell of her ear, and the slight widening of her eyes, before he pushed off.

Wesley tore through the room, dodging around people when he could, taking them out when he had to. He fired five times and then came to a halt, his gun raised to hover just at Celeste's forehead. The five men around her fell before he even stopped.

To her benefit, Celeste just stared at him as if she hadn't a care in the world.

"Call them off," Wesley grit out.

"And if I don't?"

Wesley pulled the hammer back. "It won't be painless."

A smile crossed Celeste's lips. "Did you offer my brethren the same choice?"

"Your men are down. Tell the rest to stand down and we'll just walk away."

"Will you though?" she sighed. "Do what you wish, Wesley, but know that we will never stop hunting you down. I will not stop until your head is mounted on my wall."

Wesley just shook his head, lowering his gun. "Do what you want Celeste. Just know that the more men you send after me, the more I'll kill. Even your resources aren't unlimited."

With that, he turned away from her, knowing it was a risk to offer her his back. He walked away, the gun held loosely in his hand. He'd made it ten steps before two shots rang out in tandem. He turned his head to see the small gun in her hand.

Wesley watched as two red dots blossomed on her white blouse and a stunned expression cross her face. He turned away as she started to crumple.

John reached him before Thompkins. He looped an arm around his waist, pulling his other arm around his neck. Thompkins stopped in front of them, one bloody hand raising to touch his cheek. Wesley simply nodded at her unspoken question.

"How long do we have?" she asked John.

"Five minutes."

Thompkins dropped her hand, leaving a bloody trail down Wesley's cheek. "Then we better go. Take Wesley and I'll cover for you."

John nodded and started to move, bracing Wesley's weight. Thompkins walked ahead of them, gun at the ready.

They didn't stop until they were blocks away. The explosion rocked the building, the flames eating up the side of the building. The three turned to look briefly, making sure they weren't being followed. Thick smoke billowed up from the fire that consumed the old brick building, dancing along the outer walls and devouring the roof as sirens sounded in the distance.

Thompkins and John locked eyes and nodded. It was time to go.


	9. Devious Dance Between You and Me

Devious Dance Between You and Me

The doctor had just left and Thompkins was sitting on the floor, her back against the bed, when a knock sounded at the door.

Thompkins dropped her head against the bed and let a puff of air out through slightly parted lips. She stared at the vaulted ceiling, wishing whoever it was would just go away. She stood with a groan, her right leg almost giving out as she put pressure on it. She hissed through her teeth at the pain. The soft knock sounded again.

"I'm coming," she muttered.

She found Charon outside of her door as she opened it, a small smile gracing his lips.

"Good evening. I am so sorry to bother you at his late hour, but the manager would like to see you."

Thompkins glanced over her shoulder. Wesley slept in the oversized bed, bandages covering nearly every visible part of him.

"He will be safe," Charon said, as if reading her thoughts. "There is no business done on hotel grounds."

She snorted. "The Fraternity don't play by your rules."

His smile softened. "No, but there are precautions in place. I can have house-keeping check in on him if you would like."

Thompkins glanced back at Charon, a flicker of relief replacing her mask of indifference. "I would like that. Thank you."

Charon gave a slight bow. "Of course. Now, if you would please follow me."

With one last look at the sleeping Wesley, she stepped outside, closing the door softly behind her.

* * *

Winston sat at his table, his eyes roving around the dimly lit room. Every man and woman sitting at tables, conversing amongst each other, all polite smiles and easy conversation. But he knew that they were all prepared for anything despite the rules.

"You're looking paranoid, Winston."

Winston's eyes flicked to the well-dressed man sitting across from him. "Shouldn't we all Jonathan?"

John's grip on his knife tightened ever so slightly. A movement Winston didn't miss. "Maybe outside these walls."

Winston leaned in, bracing his chin on his interlocked fingers. "The rules of the Continental are infallible, as you know. But, as you also know, for the right price, one could be willing to break those rules. Or one could ignore them completely."

John stared at him, gleaning whatever he could from Winston's impassive face. "You're worried about the Fraternity."

"Worried? No. Perhaps prepared for more to invade this city. If that is the case, you will need to watch your back Jonathan. They do not take kindly to a sect of their own being destroyed. Especially by outsiders."

"I'll add them to the list."

A slight smile crossed Winston's lips. "Cocky until the end, as always."

"Sir."

Winston sat up straight as Charon stepped to the table, Thompkins behind him. "Ah. Ms. Thompkins. Thank you for joining us. How is Mr. Gibson?"

"Sleeping," she replied, slipping into the seat Charon pulled out for her. "The Doctor says he'll make a full recovery in time."

"Good, good. Are you hungry?"

Thompkins shook her head. "No, thank you. I was told you wanted to speak to me."

"How long do you and Mr. Gibson plan on staying in New York?"

Thompkins' eyes narrowed. "We're moving on as soon as he's able."

"Do you think that wise?"

"We have unfinished business."

"You will never find all of them."

She shrugged. "Maybe not, but we will fight until our last breaths to try."

Winston smiled. He noticed her tense as he reached into his jacket pocket. Her fingers reached for the knife beside the empty plate, but then retracted. He placed a small box on the table and moved it toward her. "For your services."

Thompkins hesitantly reached for the box. She opened it slowly, her eyes glancing inside and then flicking back up to Winston. "I don't understand."

"You took care of a problem in my city. Granted, the problem would not have occurred had you not been here. Nevertheless, you handled it. For that, you are compensated."

Thompkins fingered the four gold coins that were nestled in the box. "I didn't do it for you."

"No, but use those if you should ever need to. All Continentals will welcome you. All will offer safe harbor. I have a feeling it will only be during extreme circumstances."

Thompkins nodded. "I- Thank you. Both of you. I couldn't have done it without you."

John chuckled. "I'm sure you would have found a way."

A smile pulled at her lips. "A much more self-destructive way."

"If you ever need me," John stated, "you know how to reach me."

The smile widened as she stood. "I do. Same goes for you. Thank you again. And you're right; a safe harbor isn't something we necessarily look for. There are very few people we can trust. But it is nice to have the option."

After a quick good night, Thompkins walked away, the black box gripped tightly in her hand.

* * *

Wesley was sitting up with his back to her when Thompkins entered the room. He was on the edge of the bed, his feet on the floor and his hands pressed into the mattress. He was gazing out the window, watching the lights of the city turn on one by one. Wesley shifted his position as Thompkins moved behind him.

She looped her arms loosely around his waist and rested her chin on his shoulder. Wesley moved his hands to interlock with hers. "How long do we have?" She asked.

"Until what?"

"Until we have to move again."

Wesley sighed. "Soon. Celeste will have sent word out."

Thompkins pulled one hand away and reached behind her. She put the black box on his lap and flipped the lid. "For our services, or so I'm told. And we have until you're healed. Winston says the coins will give us safe harbor at any Continental."

Wesley chuckled. "Safe harbor. That's not something I've thought of in a long time."

Thompkins placed a kiss on the side of his neck. "You need to sleep."

"I could think of some other things to do instead."

She chuckled. "I think we both need sleep. You still can't see out of one eye and I'd be afraid I'd hurt you further."

Wesley gave a mock sigh of resignation. "Fine," he paused, tilting his head to rest on hers. "Stay with me?"

Her arms tightened slightly, her fingers twining with his. "Always."

* * *

It was two days after John left the Continental that his phone rang. He hesitated when he saw the name but answered before it could go to voicemail.

"Aurelio."

"John, man. I found your car."

* * *

 **AN** : I am so sorry it took so long guys. The tendonitis in my hands really flared up the last couple months and it hurt to write or even type. But I decided to make it up to you by finishing up the last three chapters and posting them all together even though I don't really like to do that. I hope you enjoyed this one!


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